Black Wings
by CrazedSkeleton
Summary: Dietrich is a German Butei with a knack for flying and fighting. His career has gotten him transferred to Tokyo Butei high, but before he could even begin the orientation, a shadowy enemy organization had began hunting him. He must now brave a coming storm, one that could ground him permanently.


Clear skies, whispy clouds. Crisp air flowed steadily across the blue above, silent and tranquil. Dietrich unintentionaly fixed this.

A feint roar struck the residents of Yokohama, awakening many from well deserved slumber. Some early risers caught a glimpse of the 24,000 pound alarm clock streaking over their heads. All were left wondering about the massive red fighter plane, and what idiot thought to fly it so low.

Well, his name was Dietrich Van Richtofen, the newest transfer to the renowned Tokyo Butei academy. And he did not willingly fly his Typhoon fighter at a mere 300 meter altitude. It was because he was losing fuel, and was only receiving minimal thrust from his failing engine. Most pilots would agree that these were unsolvable circumstances, and he should land immediately. Dietrich agreed, except there was no where to even attempt to crash land.

He growled as the stick struggled against him, screaming numerous curses in frustration.

"Sheisa! Is there not even a field!"

He held the stick between his knees and reached for a small map beside his left knee.

"Hello? Are you still there Dietrich?" The air traffic control girl asked over the radio.

"Yeah, trying to find a place to put down. This whole area is so urbanized!"

So far there was nothing even remotely near him, he needed a long enough runway, and one that wouldn't suffer from the ever real possibility of his plane exploding on touchdown.

"How far are you from Tokyo international?"

"About fifty plus kilometers." He approximated, distracted by his multitasking.

"Funnily enough we had an issue like this recently, the student landed an airliner on one of the vacant mega-floats."

"Mega-float? Doesn't matter, if he can land an airliner, I can land mine there also."

He double checked the school's coordinates on his map before deciding that it was a lot closer than any actual airport. He dropped the map and grabbed the stick, twisting it just barely to account for his location change.

It was actually in view, and the pilot was impressed at the artificial structure's size. It was lucky for him that this stretch of land was ahead, because a moment after he got over the river, his engine cut out.

Dietrich's hopes fell far faster than the plane, which didn't glide very well. It would be close, and by that, it meant by a few meters, not even enough time to lower the undercarriage. He had to keep it on track and at this angle of decent, or else he would be little less than a piloted missile. Gently he pulled back, teetering on the edge of a stall.

**THUMP**

The sound was rather anti-climatic as the landing gear buckled under him and the armored belly struck ground. Dietrich forgot to breathe as he fought the many physical forces pushing down upon his craft and him. The Typhoon skid quite majestically across the thin layer of dirt atop their massive barge.

"What the hell happened? The self defense force wanted to blow you out of the sky!" The teacher yelled as the German boy leaned back in his seat.

After Dietrich had been recovered from his plane(he nearly feinted at the sight of his poor fighter in such bad condition, though thankfully the vehicular management department maintained a wide selection of mechanics)a young black haired teacher wearing a long coat had brought him to a lightless room labeled "Dagula". He had heard somewhere that this was not somewhere you wanted to end up.

"I already told you, while I was over the ocean, some bloody fool in a F-18 hit me with his thirty millimeter and bounded off." He sighed.

"You don't know what country it belonged to?"

"If it was marked, I couldn't see it. I didn't even realize he was hostile until he started shooting. Thought it was just a coincidental patrol." He stopped there in a brief pause as the woman extinguished her cigarette and lit a new one.

"But you knew the plane?" She asked.

"Yes. I could tell by the wing and fuselage length. It was indeed and F-18 Hornet."

The woman rubbed her head furiously before literally throwing herself into a swivel chair.

"Damn that's a lot of paperwork. Alright, I'll get Interpol on the line and see what arms dealers could sell such a plane."

The interrogation(or so it felt to Dietrich)lasted for quite a while. He was then dismissed while they reviewed the case. He swiftly made his way out, conscious of the wandering eyes that glanced over him.

"I'm going to shoot that bastard out of the sky. Thinks it's funny to pick a dogfight with a _Richtofen_."

Concluding that the air around him could not appreciate his blistering fury, he decided to cool off and explore the school with what little daylight remained. Maybe take a load off in the new room. Probably better than cramped Luftwaffe barracks and the previous Butei academy dorms. Still...couldn't vouch for the company in this new place. All of his buddies from the European divisions had been sent up north where violent crime had spiked during the oil shortage.

_What room was I supposed to be in anyway? 499? I'll have to ask someone. Hmmm._

An average looking student meandered around on the bottom row of the complex, black haired with a dreary scowl on his face. He appeared to be the only student, nay human in sight. Dietrich approached and caught him before he began to move up the stairs.

"Pardon me, but I seem to be lost, which floor would room 499 be on?" He asked in heavily accented Japanese.

"Not from around here?" The boy replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Transferred from Rome just today."

"Oh, funny, I actually know someone from Rome who transferred here too. Anyway, two floors up. Don't take the lift, it's really slow."

"Appreciated," Dietrich said with a quick two fingered salute, "by the way, the name is Dietrich. Should we happen to meet again."

"Mine is Kinji, good luck with your classes. There are a lot of good people if you look past the normal chaos." He replied with a feint smile.

* * *

"Roomy. Not my atmosphere, but that's okay. I'm sure it'll fit with my taste eventually."

The dorm room was relatively standard, mostly empty space save for a small, but well stocked desk and a single dining table big enough for three. In back he glimpsed a pair of bunk beds, and a very high class bathroom. He took a quick look at some of the orientation material on his desk. There were substantial differences from the manuals he was used to.

"They call missions _quests_? That's a bit dramatic. Let's see, basic formula, a department of Intelligence, Combat, Vehicular Skills...and interrogation. That's new to the curriculum. Classes are the same. Guess that's been sorted then."

With that out of the way, he proceeded to the main balcony. It overlooked the river, he could even see the place he had landed earlier. His plane had been moved, but it's trail still twisted across the grass in a dirty snake pattern. His eyes happened to stray left ever so slightly, and he caught a sparkle of the sunset reflected from through a small champagne glass. It was being held by a petite girl in a lavish pink bath robe. She had incredible golden hair like an illustration from a folktale, but the way she held herself reminded Dietrich more of a James Bond villain.

She happened to catch a glimpse of him as well. Dietrich saw the girl flash him a smile, and raise her glass with a sly wink. Dietrich grinned and nodded, muttering under his breath; "Hello to you too Fraulein."

He might have stayed and played a bit more, but a knock at the door dragged his attention back into the house. He made his way to the door with great irritation. _First good thing to happen and it gets __interrupted__._

"Monsieur Richthofen?"

The voice was french, and very feminine. It was certainly a shock to Dietrich.

"Ah, yes. Just a moment."

He pulled open the door slightly and observed the visitor with immense interest. She had short blue hair, and dark green eyes. Her figure was somewhat small, but average in height. She was certainly pretty, but also quite menacing in her attire. She wore a black greatcoat and a bandoleer still packed with high caliber ammunition.

"You've found your Richthofen, so permit me to ask the obvious next question; are you here to kill me?" Dietrich said partially joking, but mostly serious.

"I suppose I might have taken this off before coming. Fear not, I'm not here to make trouble. I'm Annette, and I wanted to discuss something with you. If you would permit me to enter?" She asked, cracking a smirk at the pilot.

Dietrich complied, letting in this Belgian beauty and opening the floodgates for his second year of highschool.


End file.
